The Bell Tolls
by Cinvxten
Summary: Bruce Wayne hasn't been focusing enough on his own competition, concentrating soley on the Joker. But what happens when a new billionaire shows his face within Gotham's ranks? And just who is The Grim Reaper? Post Dark Knight, minor spoilers.


This is just a story that was floating around in my head after I saw The Dark Knight. I don't know if I'll continue this at all. I guess it all depends on if people like it. So, give me some feedback, whether you like it or not or what I could do to improve; whether I should continue it.

The story is really choppy, and I apologize for that. I didn't realize until just now how all over the place it is and how it's totally lacking in transitions, haha! But, still read and review.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything... at all...**

**The Bell Tolls**

By Cinvxten

"Did you have an eventful evening, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked as the caped crusader exited from his pitch black vehicle. He pulled off his mask and wiped away the sweat from his brow. With a sigh he began to peel the Batman suit from his body.

"Hardly," he sighed, disappointed. "He's still not talking. No matter what I do, all I get out of him is maniacal laughter. If the Joker's got anything planned, he's not giving it up."

"I expected as much," the butler nodded. He held out a newspaper with eloquence and motioned for his master to take it. "But, shouldn't you be paying more attention to Bruce Wayne's competition? The Batman and Joker can wait. It's been weeks since any major crime has happened, and I fear you, as Bruce Wayne, have a lot more pressing matters."

"What's this?" Bruce asked, taking the paper and skimming the titles.

"His name is Samael," Alfred informed. "He's a rising billionaire and is rivaling your own fortune. But instead of economics, he specializes in arms dealing. He's bought every gun dealership in Gotham, even down to the 'mom and pop' stores down at the commons. But I think the more interesting… and maybe more disturbing fact is what they're calling him."

"The New Harvey Dent," Bruce finished, grimacing at the title as he read it aloud. "What kind of man is he?"

"I looked a little into his past," the butler explained, expertly clicking through a computer and bringing up a file. "He used to be a mercenary, but got tired of doing the dirty work himself, I suppose, and started selling guns instead of using them." Alfred eyed his master suspiciously as if to express his concern. "He's since publicly admitted that he is ashamed of what he's done in the past. He's Gotham's new White Knight. The people love him."

"Why haven't I heard of this until now?" pondered the distressed billionaire, more to himself then anything.

"I think it's because of that Joker," Alfred pointed out.

"I can't stop thinking about him," Bruce admitted. "Sometimes… sometimes I think I should have just let him fall. Let him die."

"You never would be able to do such a thing," Alfred tried to persuade.

"No," his master interrupted. "But Batman could have."

"I don't think so, sir." They both stayed silent in contemplation for a moment. Finally, the butler continued. "Actually, sir, you might not know it, but its Samael's birthday today. And you've been cordially invited."

"Who's this?" Bruce asked, flipping through the paper again, almost completely ignoring his friend. "The Grim Reaper? A new villain?"

"I suppose so, sir," Alfred sighed, turning away to leave in frustration. "I guess even when you take off the mask, Batman doesn't really leave, does he?"

"I'm sorry, Alfred," the young man apologized. "You're right. Bruce Wayne hasn't done anything in the lime light recently. People might become suspicious."

"Always a good reason to party, right sir?"

Bruce couldn't help but laugh, the first time in a long while. "Always."

--

Bruce stepped through the front door the mansion, leaving the flashing lights of the cameras the ever droning gaggle of press behind him. The noise outside was drowned out by the sweet melodies of music from the party. Almost instantly, the billionaire was handed a drink and surrounded by aspiring fans.

"Bruce Wayne!" called a voice from the crowd happily. "I cannot express the amount of joy I have for you actually gracing my humble birthday with your presence!" A young man, hardly thirty years old emerged from the wash of other faces and grinned. He had raven black hair and stunning green eyes. "I am Samael Jacobs. And it is an honor to meet such a great man."

"I guess I should be the honored one," Bruce said, shaking the man's extended hand. "For warranting an invitation in the first place."

"Nonsense!" Samael waved his hand as if wipe the doubt from existence. "I wouldn't dream of having a party without you here. Please, have a seat!" Bruce Wayne sat down at a table, immediately all the surrounding chairs were filled, everyone wanting a chance to sit with the two most wealthy people in Gotham.

"So," Bruce began, taking a sip from his champagne glass. "Samael. An interesting name; the Hebrew angel of death."

"Yes, well," Samael fidgeted in his chair and smiled. "My mother had a sense of humor to say the least."

"I heard about your… controversial past," Bruce continued, unable to be appeased until he completely destroyed the man in front of everyone. "A mercenary. That's quite the line of work."

"You certainly do your research," Samael agreed, seemingly unfazed. "And I do admit it was one of my more… regretful occupations. I did it only for the money, but now," he stretched his hands out, to show off the wide expanse of his mansion. "You see, money is no longer an issue for me. I know I can't wash the blood from my hands, no matter how many dollars I use. The only thing I can do is assure the public that it will never happen again. Samael is through with killing."

"So instead, you try to get other people to kill themselves for you," Bruce offered, placing his glass on the table as the conversation became heated.

"I beg your pardon?" Samael implored, setting down his glass as well.

"You're policy on the right to bear arms," Wayne continued. "You say that everyone in Gotham should own a gun."

"Well, I believe that safety is our number one priority," Samael explained with a smile. "If everyone had a gun, people would be more afraid to assault anyone. We could all defend ourselves and would have no need for dangerous vigilantes such as the Batman."

"But the rise in gun ownership is staggering. It's nearly doubled in-"

"Think of it," the other man interrupted before Bruce could make his point. "If your father had a gun that night you were mugged… he might still be here today."

Bruce Wayne stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth still open as if to say something. Samael had struck a chord, and he knew it. He grinned dryly and squinted his eyes in triumph. Bruce's plan to humiliate him had backfired.

"You're no Harvey Dent," Bruce growled as he rose from his seat and made for the door.

"Good!" the young billionaire called back to him. "I hope not to live in anyone's shadow. I'm going to be famous for standing on my own two feet."

"And you're definitely no white knight." And with that, Bruce Wayne ploughed through the crowds and out the door.

--

"I've got him, Fox," Batman whispered into the microphone planted on his mask near his lips. "The Grim Reaper. I've finally caught up with him."

"Good," replied his friend through the static. "Take him down."

Batman moved in through the dark, making hardly any noise at all as he swooped through the building. He easily took down a few goons and tied them up with wire. He had been tracking the new villain for a few days now. The Grim Reaper was more interested in assassinations then robbing banks. And he was good at it too. The mysterious man would come and go so quickly that the only description witnesses could give was that it was a tall shadow with a scythe, lobbing off heads as he disappeared into the shadows.

But his reign of terror would end today. The Batman would make sure of that. He took one step into the abandoned building's top floor and saw him. His looks certainly lived up to his name. He wore a billowing grey cloak that covered his head and menacing metal gloves over his hands. In his right hand was perched a long sickle, stained with dried blood.

His attacks had been all over the place: taking out not only police officials and politicians, but also mob bosses and other minor bad guys. Still, Batman had no idea what his motive was or even how he got in and out of the crime scene so quickly.

"_I'm glad you could make it_," the Grim Reaper purred, his voice masked by a mechanical device that made his words even more frightening. He turned to face the Dark Knight and Batman saw that he was wearing a steel mask that gave his face a vacant yet horrid visage. "_I've been waiting for this day_."

"It all ends here," Batman rasped, deepening his voice as well.

"_I know it may seem cliché_," the new villain started with a mechanical chuckle. "_But this is only the beginning_."

"What do you want?" Batman hissed in reply.

"_I want to destroy this city_," the Grim Reaper answered bluntly. "_Burn it to the ground and have the world know that death cannot be escaped. That the only thing eternal in this world is the promise of death._"

"That's not going to happen," growled the caped crusader.

"_A man of such few words_," the other shook his head. "_How disappointing_." A cloud of smog misted from beneath him and swallowed him whole. Batman's eyes widened as he charged the villain. To his dismay, there was nothing left after the smoke dispersed.

--

"I can't tell you anything more," Lucius Fox sighed. "For some reason, none of the truth serums I've come up with work on him. He's an enigma."

"The Joker is crafty even locked up," Bruce cursed, sneering at his recent failures. "I don't have time for this. I don't have time for anything anymore."

"I heard about Samael Jacob's campaign," Fox continued, closing the cases and drawers full of chemicals. "He was successful in giving guns to every family in Gotham. I actually think this would prove to be a deterrent to crime. At least in breaking and entering cases."

"Yeah, well, we'll see," Bruce spat, unable to come up with a better retort.

"Did I hear my name?" came a voice from the shadows. Both Bruce and Lucius sat up with a start and gazed on in awe. Samael walked cockily into the light and grinned from ear to ear.

"How did you get in here?" Fox asked, his anger over powering his surprise.

"I just had an overwhelming urge to watch bats in their natural habitat," Samael chortled.

Bruce scrunched up his face in disgust. "You know," he stated, venom dripping from his voice. He motioned briefly for Lucius to leave the two of them alone.

"Please, Bruce," Samael pleaded, cocking his head to one side and procuring a bat shaped ninja star from his suit's pocket. "I'm an arms dealer. If I didn't specialize in tracking down weapons, where would I be? And don't mock my intelligence. I know about all the cool little gadgets Batman has. How can he afford all those trinkets, unless he was stinking rich? And there are really only two people in Gotham who can do that; you and me. And I'm obviously not Batman."

Wayne jumped from his position, grappling with Samael and putting his arm to his throat. "What do you want?" he hissed into Samael's gleaming smile.

Samael's grin grew wider and his eyes took on a crazed glint as they widened with exhilaration. "I want to destroy this city. Burn it to the ground and have the world know that death cannot be escaped!"

Bruce eased his grip in shock. "You're the Grim Reaper?" he gasped. "But why reveal yourself to me?"

"Because you can't stop me," Samael said confidently. "You must notice by now that all the cameras in this area in the building have been shut off. And you've sent you're precious little side kick off. You have no witnesses."

"I don't need any. I'm Batman."

"Look, buddy! I'm not your enemy, here!" Samael pushed Bruce away lightly and brushed himself off. "The Joker is. He's out and about, wreaking havoc as we speak, and you're here trying to connect me to a mysterious villain with no evidence to support you what so ever."

"The Joker is behind bars," Batman growled.

Samael looked him the eye as his lips danced into a smile. "Oh, is he? The Grim Reaper doesn't think so. He broke him out just this morning."

"You lie!"

"Lie?! No, no, no, no, no… I never lie." Samael backed up and chuckled lightly to himself.

"Yes you do! You're a villain; that's what villains do! They lie and cheat and try to lead others down the wrong path!" Bruce reached over and grabbed the closest weapon to him.

"Hahahaha! I'm sorry, my friend, but you're wrong. No one's… leading you anywhere; no one's… trying to trick you. And no one is lying. The choices you make are totally yours, no matter what I say! For you see… _true_ villains… never need to lie. Because… a true villain knows… that the truth… is _far_ more agonizing! Hahahahahaha!"

"What could freeing the Joker ever do for you?" Bruce asked, wanting to drain all the information he could from the man.

"You forget, I sell weapons. I'm an arms dealer. It doesn't matter who buys my weapons. Everything I do is totally legal. So a few clowns buy some of my guns and other arsenals. I can't be directly responsible for that." Samael beamed with triumph and placed his hands on his hips. "And you know what? Now that every family owns a gun of their own, heroism will go on the rise. Ever hear of a little thing called inflation? The cops will buy more of my guns to suppress the rise in robber's weaponry. And in response, the mob will buy even _more_ of my guns. It'll be a never ending cycle, and soon… Gotham will be nothing but another war zone."

"You won't win!"

"I can't possibly lose!" Samael shrieked with glee. "Hysteria is a powerful thing. And just wait until the Scarecrow gets released from prison. His fear toxin will spread the fires even more than I ever could."

"You're going after the Crane now?" Bruce cried with fury.

"It's a perfect plan," Samael explained. "The Joker and Scarecrow will light the fire, and… I'll just pass out the matches and gasoline."

"I'll stop you right now."

"Please do!" Samael shouted, his eyes glazing over. "No really, I want you to! I'm the hero of Gotham. I provide safety and security to a city that has none! I'm the beacon of hope for the dark, dank, drug infested town. As soon as it is revealed that I double crossed everyone… I'll be infamous! My name will go down in history as the man who destroyed Gotham City!"

"You're insane!" Bruce Wayne yelled back.

"NO!" Samael cried, his anger exploding louder than ever before. "I'M A GENIUS!" Suddenly, he calmed down and regained his composure. "I'll see you on the eleven o' clock news." He turned around and walked out of the room, Bruce too stunned to make a move against him.

--

Both of the cells were empty. "It was the Grim Reaper," Commissioner Gordon explained as he and Batman met secretly in an alley. Batman was a vigilante now, and wasn't really supposed to be working with the police. But this was big. The Joker and the Scarecrow were both at large, and already, the fires were spreading.

"What are we supposed to do?" Gordon asked, completely deflated.

"How do you stop a fire from spreading?" Batman asked rhetorically. "You cut it off from the other flames. Extinguish it in parts before it spreads further."

"What are saying we do?"

"Stop the ring leader first… the Grim Reaper."

--


End file.
